


The Tumblr Crackficlets 25: A Little Bit of a Chat

by darth_stitch



Series: Sherlock BBC - The Tumblr Crackficlets [38]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Babies, Cute, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Parentlock, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_stitch/pseuds/darth_stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby Hamish does not want to go back to sleep after his nightly feeding just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tumblr Crackficlets 25: A Little Bit of a Chat

Originally posted on 

[The Blanket Fort - Darth Stitch on Tumblr](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/post/34687574973/chat)

  
[ ](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/image/34687574973)

   
The soft sounds coming from the crib wake Sherlock Holmes up immediately.  

It wakes John too but Sherlock is quick to soothe him back to sleep, nuzzling a little at the back of his neck and pressing a quick kiss or two into his hair.  John is scheduled to work at the surgery tomorrow and he needs his rest. 

Sherlock has just recently finished a case for Lestrade.  Ordinarily, he would be complaining of boredom, already wanting to get on to the next case. 

He’s not so bored these days. 

The fussy sounds coming from the crib are threatening to become a full-blown and angry cry and Sherlock gets there in an instant.  It doesn’t take a genius to assess that little Hamish is quite dry and doesn’t need a nappy change.  The baby is hungry, then and it’s a simple thing to prepare his bottle and let him feed.  Hamish is a good eater; he makes short work of the bottle and obligingly burps quite easily. 

It’s when Sherlock tries to put him down again that he starts fussing once more. Sherlock finds himself smiling.  John has often complained that Hamish seems to have inherited something of Sherlock’s penchant for being a night owl but gives in to their son’s demands for cuddles and “a bit of a chat.”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Hamish, a little bit of a chat before you go to bed?” Sherlock asks his son. 

The baby gurgles and Sherlock smiles and takes it as agreement and cuddles him close. 

The baby’s head fits quite easily in the palm of his hand and Sherlock, as always, is captivated by the eyes - green, in this light - staring raptly up at him.  For his age, this baby shows signs of being aware and focused on what’s happening around him.  Infant deductive skills in development, John will say fondly and laugh when Sherlock is utterly unable to help but preen at the obvious compliment. 

So Sherlock talks to his son, keeping his voice at a low, comforting rumble.  He talks about how to tell an airline pilot by the state of his thumbs, all those little minutiae that one must observe in order to reach the correct deduction.  And all this while he can’t but help but press tiny baby fingers to his mouth in little kisses, taking in the scents of talcum, baby cologne and baby soap but most of all the fresh, clean smell of _baby_.  He takes in the little changes that he can see in Hamish every day, almost to the hour - the way he is beginning to rapidly outgrow his baby clothes, the soft curls touched through with red that would eventually darken once he grew older. 

Sherlock is utterly captivated and he knows it.  Revels in it, even as Hamish responds to his Papa’s words with a coo or another gurgle in all the right times.  John might point out how Hamish very much resembles Sherlock but already, Sherlock sees in Hamish John’s ability to simply be there and _listen_. 

And when he coaxes Hamish into giving him a toothless smile _and_ a giggle, that is entirely and utterly _John._

He knows perfectly well that his expression is utterly besotted when he looks up to see John taking their picture with his mobile. 

“You two need to go back to sleep,” John tells them fondly.  “Next thing I’ll know, you’ll have him playing the violin at the most unholy hours of the morning.”

“Not at least until he’s three, John,” Sherlock deadpans.  Which coaxes a giggle out of John himself and Sherlock counts his day complete, that he’s managed to make his husband and son happy. 

In the end, Hamish _really_ does not want to sleep in his own crib and the Boys of Baker Street opt to settle in their bed, the littlest boy cuddled safely between his fathers. 

***

**Author's Note:**

> **I AM NOT SORRY FOR FLUFF FIC.  NOT SORRY AT ALL.**
> 
> **PICTURE SOURCE:**
> 
> [@Paul McGuigan on Twitter](https://twitter.com/paul_mcguigan/status/263326184425799680/photo/1) and brought on by this [Reblogged Post](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/post/34665148275/roane72-paul-mcguigan-visitor)


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